Tyrion: Thoughts of a Persuader Outside King's Landing
The morning mist outside King's Landing had not yet dispersed. Tyrion, leaning on his oak cane, stood on a hillock three hundred paces from the Red Keep's gate. The cold wind carried fragments of black banners from the city walls, landing on his wool cloak—these were the "mourning flags" Cersei had specially put up after Euron fled back to King's Landing, ostensibly to mourn the fallen Golden Company soldiers, but in reality, to declare her unwavering resolve not to surrender to the alliance.
"Lord, the megaphone horn is ready." Two Unsullied soldiers approached, carrying a bronze horn. Its mouth was wrapped in linen soaked in dragonglass powder, designed to both amplify sound and resist potential wildfire embers. Tyrion nodded, his fingers caressing the lion crest at the top of his cane—this was a relic left by his father, Tywin, and holding it now, it felt strangely warm.
He looked up at the Red Keep's battlements. Cersei's figure was faintly visible in the mist, dressed in a dark red velvet robe with a ruby-studded belt. Qyburn and the Mountain stood beside her. On the arrow towers flanking the battlements, Golden Company soldiers were nocking arrows, their tips gleaming coldly, yet no one dared to make the first move—the alliance's fleet was anchored in Blackwater Bay, Drogon and Rhaegal circled above the Red Keep, their roars occasionally making the city walls tremble slightly.
"People of King's Landing! I am Tyrion Lannister!" Tyrion took the horn, took a deep breath, and his voice boomed through the bronze tube, echoing across the open ground outside the city. "Queen Cersei has enough wildfire hidden in the Red Keep's dungeons to burn down all of King's Landing! She wants you all to die with her, just to keep her throne!"
Silence fell on the city walls for a moment, then scattered commotion broke out—Tyrion could see commoners peeking out from behind the city gate, some with fear on their faces, others with suspicion in their eyes. He continued to shout: "As long as you open the city gates, the alliance promises: no harm to any commoner, no looting of any property! Cersei's crimes are hers alone, they have nothing to do with you!"
"Lies!" a sharp voice came from the battlements, it was the commander of the Kingsguard beside Cersei. "Tyrion Lannister is a kinslayer! Everything he says is a lie!" The Golden Company soldiers on the battlements jeered in agreement, their arrow tips pointing at Tyrion, but Cersei raised her hand to stop them.
Tyrion sneered, pulling a scroll of parchment from his cloak—this was the wildfire distribution map provided by Jaime, marking seven wildfire caches beneath civilian areas with red ink. "I have Cersei's wildfire distribution map here!" He held the parchment high. "In the cellars of the civilian districts, there's a wildfire pot every ten paces! You can go and see, go and dig! See if what I say is true!"
The commotion behind the city gate grew louder. Tyrion could even hear the commoners arguing—an old man shouted, "We can't die with that madwoman," and another woman cried, "My child is still in the city, I need to get him out." Cersei's face on the battlements grew increasingly grim. She abruptly drew the dagger from her waist and pointed it at Tyrion: "You imp! Dare to spread such sedition again, and I'll kill everyone at the city gate!"
Tyrion did not flinch; instead, he took two steps forward, his cane thudding against the frozen earth: "Cersei, you are killing your own people! The very people you swore to protect! Do you think you can hold your throne with wildfire and the Mountain? You are wrong! The alliance's dragons can burn through your walls, and the alliance's soldiers can level your Red Keep!"
No sooner had he spoken than a clang of metal came from the battlements—three men in noble attire were escorted to the city wall by the Kingsguard. They were Riverlands nobles who had previously tried to persuade Cersei to surrender; one of them was even Tyrion's distant cousin. Cersei raised her dagger, its tip pressed against the throat of the eldest noble: "Tyrion, watch! This is the fate of those who betray me!"
A flash of steel, and blood flowed down the city wall, dripping into the snow below the city gate, staining it red. The remaining two nobles collapsed in fear, but Cersei still ordered them thrown from the city wall, where they hit the frozen ground with dull thuds. The commoners at the city gate instantly fell silent, fear spreading like a cold current.
Tyrion's fists clenched tightly, his fingernails digging deep into his palms. He knew the persuasion had failed, that Cersei's madness far exceeded his imagination. He turned to look at the alliance camp behind him; Illyrio stood under a banner, waving at him, holding a new piece of parchment—it was intelligence Bran had just relayed, concerning the secret of the Red Keep's wildfire trigger mechanism.
Cersei: Brutal Rule from the Red Keep Battlements
Cersei stood in the shadow of the Red Keep's battlements, watching Tyrion's figure disappear into the morning mist, a cold, sharp smile playing on her lips. Qyburn offered her a cup of hot mulled wine; she took it but did not drink, merely staring at her reflection in the wine—her face pale, eyes bloodshot, yet still exuding an undeniable majesty.
"Your Grace, Tyrion's words have already swayed some of the commoners." Qyburn's voice held a hint of worry. "Just now, some commoners tried to open the city gate, but they were stopped by Golden Company soldiers. If this continues, I'm afraid..."
"Afraid of what?" Cersei interrupted him, placing the wine cup heavily on the stone table. "Am I to grovel before a bunch of traitors like Robert?" She looked at the Mountain beside her, his giant-like body appearing particularly menacing in the shadows. "Gregor, go deal with those 'swayed' commoners at the city gate. Let them know what happens to those who betray me."
The Mountain said nothing, only nodded slightly, then turned and descended the battlements. Before long, piercing screams came from the direction of the city gate, but Cersei watched expressionlessly, as if hearing only the sound of wind sweeping across the city walls. Qyburn looked at her profile, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes—he knew Cersei's madness, but also relied on the resources she provided to research dark magic.
"Is the wildfire trigger mechanism ready?" Cersei suddenly asked, her gaze fixed on the distant alliance fleet. "I want Tyrion and that Targaryen whore to know that even if I die, I'll drag all of King's Landing down with me."
"It's ready, Your Grace." Qyburn pulled a ring embedded with a black gem from his cloak. "This is the 'Blood Curse Ring,' filled with your blood. As long as you insert the ring into the trigger mechanism in the Black Cells, all the wildfire in King's Landing will detonate simultaneously." He paused, then added, "However, Bran Stark's Greensight seems to be able to perceive the location of the mechanism, so we need to strengthen the Black Cells' guard to prevent them from ambushing."
Cersei took the ring and put it on her ring finger; the cold touch of the gem cleared her mind somewhat. "Where is Euron? Can his remaining fleet still fight?" she asked, a trace of almost imperceptible dependence in her tone—though she didn't trust the pirate king, at this moment, Euron's fleet was her only maritime shield.
"Lord Euron is repairing warships in the waterfront district. He says he needs three days to reorganize an effective defense," Qyburn replied. "However, he proposed that you give him half of King's Landing's wealth as a condition for deploying his forces."
Cersei sneered: "Tell him, once I've killed Daenerys and Tyrion, all of Westeros's wealth will be his. For now, tell him to focus on repairing his warships and stop bringing up such trivial conditions."
Just then, a Kingsguard soldier rushed over, his face pale: "Your Grace, the commoners on the west side of the city have started rioting! They're armed with farming tools, trying to break open the city gate and defect to the alliance!"
Cersei abruptly stood up, drawing the dagger from her waist: "Send the Golden Company to suppress them! Kill one to warn a hundred! I'd like to see if these commoners dare to defy me!" She strode quickly down the battlements, her velvet robe fluttering in the wind like a dark red flame—she knew she had no retreat, only blood and wildfire to defend this crumbling throne.
Bran: Greensight Warning in the Godswood
In the temporary Godswood outside King's Landing, Bran sat in his wheelchair, the weirwood branches gently swaying above his head. His consciousness had long since drifted into the Red Keep; in the world of Greensight, the Red Keep's walls became transparent, and the Black Cells' location was clearly visible—fifty wildfire pots were neatly arranged on stone tables, each pot connected to a black metal tube, which extended to every corner of the Red Keep, like a giant net enveloping all of King's Landing.
"The trigger mechanism is on the central stone table in the Black Cells." Bran's fingers lightly tapped the armrest of his wheelchair, his voice tinged with fatigue. "Qyburn has carved 'Blood Curse Runes' around the mechanism, and only Cersei's blood can activate it—the ring on her hand is the activation key."
Lyra knelt beside him, placing a warm wool blanket over his legs: "Master Bran, you've been watching for an hour; you should rest. Lord Illyrio said he's waiting for your intelligence to formulate the assault plan."
Bran shook his head, his consciousness delving deeper—he saw the Black Cells' guards wearing black armor, carved with runes similar to the Mountain's, holding longswords inlaid with dragonglass (weapons modified by Qyburn with dragonglass, specifically to counter the alliance's Unsullied). The guards were divided into two shifts, changing every two hours. During the shift change, there would be a three-minute unguarded window on the east side of the Black Cells—that was the direction of the secret passage entrance Jaime had mentioned.
"The secret passage entrance is behind the stone wall on the east side of the Black Cells; it needs a dragonglass dagger to pry open." Bran's voice grew fainter, the dizziness from Greensight making his vision blur. "In Cersei's ring, besides her blood, there's also Qyburn's dark magic—once activated, even if she dies, the wildfire will detonate an hour later."
Lyra immediately pulled out parchment and quickly jotted down Bran's words with charcoal: "I'll deliver this intelligence to Lord Illyrio right away." As she stood up, Bran suddenly grabbed her hand, a flicker of alarm in his eyes: "Also... Euron has hidden an ice core fragment on his warship in the waterfront district—it was left behind when the Night King escaped. He wants to use the ice core fragment to enhance the wildfire's power, expanding the explosion radius tenfold."
Lyra's face instantly turned pale. She clutched the parchment tightly and ran towards the alliance camp. Bran watched her retreating figure, his consciousness gradually withdrawing from Greensight. weirwood sap flowed from the corners of his eyes, congealing into dark red streaks on his cheeks—he knew time was running out; he had to destroy the trigger mechanism and that ice core fragment before Cersei activated the wildfire.
Illyrio: Tactical Adjustments at the Alliance Camp
Illyrio stood before the alliance camp's sand table, holding a wooden pointer, discussing the plan to storm the Red Keep with Grey Worm and Miss Arya. On the sand table, the Red Keep model was made of earth and wood, the Black Cells' location marked with a small red flag, and the secret passage route laid out with white sand—this was drawn based on intelligence from Jaime and Bran, precise down to every step's distance and the guards' shift change times.
"Bran's intelligence says the Black Cells' guards change shifts every two hours, with a three-minute window during the change." Illyrio pointed with his pointer at the secret passage entrance on the sand table. "Our assault team needs to enter the secret passage one minute before the shift change, use those three minutes to pry open the stone wall, enter the Black Cells, and destroy the trigger mechanism."
Grey Worm stood by the sand table, holding a guard distribution map: "The Unsullied can form a 'spike team,' ten men, each equipped with a dragonglass dagger and a fire oil pot, responsible for clearing the Black Cells' guards. Miss Arya is skilled in stealth and can lead two others to directly destroy the trigger mechanism."
Arya nodded, unfastening her valyrian steel dagger from her waist, its blade gleaming coldly in the sunlight: "I need to know the exact appearance of the trigger mechanism. Bran said it needs Cersei's blood to activate. Does that mean that destroying the ring will prevent the detonation?"
Bran said the ring was the activation key, but the device itself had backup blood curse runes.
Illyrio took out the parchment Lyra had sent him from his bosom and handed it to Arya, "So we need to do two things: first, destroy the ring, and second, burn the runes with dragonglass fire oil to completely prevent the wildfire from detonating."
Just then, a scout ran into the camp, holding a secret letter from King's Landing — it was secretly sent out by a noble persecuted by Cersei, and the letter was written in charcoal: "The Golden Company soldiers are dispirited, many are unwilling to die for Cersei, if the Alliance attacks the city, they are willing to defect."
Illyrio finished reading the secret letter, a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth: "This is good news."
He pointed his baton at the Red Keep gate on the sand table, "Grey Worm, you lead the main Unsullied force.
When the assault team enters the Black Cells, attack the Red Keep gate from the front to attract Cersei's attention.
Yara, lead the Iron Islands warriors, land from the waterfront, and control Euron's remaining warships to prevent him from using ice core fragments to enhance the wildfire."
Arya looked at the sand table and suddenly spoke: "I'm worried Cersei will activate the wildfire early; if our assault fails, all the common people in King's Landing will die."
She paused, her gaze falling on the common people's district on the sand table, "Do we need to evacuate the common people?"
Illyrio was silent for a moment, then shook his head: "There isn't enough time.
Cersei has already begun to suppress the common people; evacuation will only cause greater chaos.
All we can do is succeed in the assault as quickly as possible and destroy the device before she activates the wildfire."
He patted Arya's shoulder, "Trust Bran's intelligence, trust our plan, we can do it."
Arya nodded, clutching the dagger in her hand.
Grey Worm began to deploy his forces; the Unsullied picked up their weapons and checked their equipment, and a tense yet determined atmosphere permeated the camp — everyone knew this was the battle to decide the fate of King's Landing, and the last chance to stop Cersei's madness.
[Daenerys: King's Landing Overlook from Dragonback and Determination]
Drogon's wings swept over King's Landing; Daenerys lay on the dragon's neck, her gaze sweeping over the city below — the common people's houses were low and crowded, Golden Company soldiers were occasionally seen patrolling the streets, and some common people hid behind windows, secretly waving in Drogon's direction, their eyes full of anticipation.
The Red Keep's towers loomed high in the distance, like a black spike piercing through the morning mist.
"Cersei has already begun to suppress the common people," Daenerys said softly, her voice tinged with anger.
She saw the common people's bodies scattered on the snow at the city gate, and Golden Company soldiers were using spears to drive away the crowds attempting to approach.
Drogon seemed to sense her emotions, letting out a low dragon roar that made the soldiers below look up, their faces showing fear.
Rhaegal followed behind Drogon, his amber scales gleaming in the sunlight.
Daenerys patted Drogon's neck, and the giant dragon slowly descended, landing in the open space of the Alliance camp.
Illyrio, Tyrion, and Arya immediately came forward, holding the parchment with the assault plan.
"Tyrion's persuasion failed," Daenerys took the parchment, quickly scanning its contents, "Cersei executed the nobles and shot the common people; she is mad and will not surrender."
"Our assault plan has been finalized," Illyrio pointed to the secret passage route on the parchment, "Arya will lead the assault team through the secret passage into the Black Cells to destroy the trigger device; Grey Worm will attack from the front to draw attention; Yara will control the waterfront to prevent Euron from causing trouble."
Tyrion stood to the side, his face heavy: "Cersei is very familiar with the Red Keep's terrain; she might set traps in the Black Cells.
We need to prepare for the worst; if the assault fails, we must destroy the Black Cells with dragonflame, even if it means sacrificing some common people, we cannot let the wildfire detonate."
Daenerys was silent for a moment, her gaze directed towards King's Landing — she remembered in Meereen, she had promised to protect the common people and not let them suffer the hardships of war.
But now, Cersei's madness had put her in a dilemma: either risk an assault or sacrifice the common people and destroy the Black Cells.
"We must succeed in the assault," Daenerys's voice was firm, "Bran said the assault team has a three-minute window; we must make good use of this opportunity.
Arya, I believe in your abilities, you can do it."
Arya nodded, her eyes full of determination: "I will not disappoint you, nor will I disappoint the common people of King's Landing."
Daenerys patted Arya's shoulder, then looked at Illyrio: "You lead the reserve team, wait outside the Red Keep, and once the assault is successful, immediately enter the city, pacify the common people, and control the Golden Company soldiers."
Illyrio nodded and turned to deploy the reserve team.
Daenerys looked up at the sky; Drogon and Rhaegal were circling above the camp, their dragon roars echoing in the morning mist.
She knew this was the final battle; as long as the wildfire trigger device was successfully destroyed, Cersei's rule could end, the common people of King's Landing would regain their freedom, and Westeros would be one step closer to peace.
The morning mist gradually dissipated, and sunlight streamed through the clouds onto the walls of King's Landing; the golden light and red bloodstains formed a Stark contrast.
Daenerys clutched the dragonblood jade belt in her hand, with only one thought in her mind: for the common people, for the Alliance, for peace, this battle must be won.
[Tyrion: Brotherly Conversation and Concerns in the Camp Tent]
As night fell, the Alliance campfires gradually lit up.
Tyrion sat in his tent, holding a glass of wine but not drinking it.
When Illyrio entered the tent, he saw him staring at the Red Keep model on the sand table, his brows furrowed, as if deep in thought.
"Still worried about Cersei?" Illyrio sat beside Tyrion, took a piece of bread from his bosom, and handed it to him.
Tyrion took the bread but set it aside: "I'm not worried about her; I'm worried about the common people of King's Landing.
Cersei is mad; she's capable of anything.
If our assault fails and the wildfire detonates, all of King's Landing will become a sea of fire."
He paused, his voice choked with emotion, "My father once said that Lannister Family must protect King's Landing, but now, I might have to watch this city be destroyed by my sister."
Illyrio patted Tyrion's shoulder, his eyes full of understanding: "We have made thorough preparations.
Arya's assault team is the best choice; she is skilled in stealth and can complete the mission within three minutes.
Bran's intelligence is also very accurate; the secret passage route and the guards' shift changes are all in order."
"I know, but I'm still worried," Tyrion sighed, taking a small bronze ring from his bosom — his mother Joanna had given it to him when he was young, and it was engraved with the Lannister lion crest.
"My mother once said that people of Lannister Family, no matter what they do, must uphold their bottom line.
But now, I don't know where my bottom line is — to win, can I sacrifice those innocent common people?"
Illyrio was silent for a moment, then picked up a burning piece of wood from outside the tent and placed it beside the sand table: "Look, this piece of wood is like our choice; either let it continue to burn and light the way ahead, or let it extinguish and fall into darkness.
Our choice now is to let it continue to burn; although sparks may fly, ultimately, it can illuminate all of King's Landing and let the common people see the hope of peace."
Tyrion looked at the burning wood, and light gradually appeared in his eyes.
He picked up his wine glass and took a sip of wine; the spicy liquid flowed down his throat, clearing his mind a bit: "You're right, we cannot retreat.
For those common people who yearn for peace, for those warriors who sacrificed for the Alliance, we must win."
Illyrio nodded and stood up: "It's getting late.
The assault team will depart early tomorrow morning; we need to get good rest and prepare for tomorrow's battle."
Tyrion also stood up, looking at the Red Keep model on the sand table, his eyes full of determination: "Tomorrow, we will take the Red Keep and end all of this."
Outside the tent, the campfire's light streamed through the gaps, illuminating their figures.
In the distance, the roars of Drogon and Rhaegal came, as if shouting for the impending battle.
Tyrion knew that tomorrow would be the day that decided everything; he would stand by the Alliance, stop Cersei's madness, protect the common people of King's Landing, and uphold Lannister Family's final bottom line.
[Arya: Assault Team's Pre-Battle Preparations]
In the early hours of the morning, in the open space of the Alliance camp, Arya was checking equipment with the ten Unsullied who formed the "Spike Team."
The Unsullied wore black stealth leather armor, with dragonglass daggers and fire oil canisters hanging from their waists, and their faces were painted black to hide their figures in the dark.
Arya also changed into the same leather armor; her valyrian steel dagger was tucked into her boot, and she held a map of the secret passage — it was drawn by Bran himself, marking every turn and possible trap.
"Remember, we only have three minutes to enter the Black Cells," Arya said in a low voice to the team members, "After entering, the Unsullied are responsible for clearing the guards, and Talon (the Unsullied team leader) and I will destroy the trigger device.
In an emergency, use dragonglass fire oil to create chaos; don't get bogged down in combat."
Talon nodded, taking a small dragonglass whistle from his bosom: "If we need support, blow this whistle; only Alliance members will hear the sound."
He paused, adding, "Young Master Bran said that the runes in the Black Cells fear dragonglass and holy fire, and our fire oil canisters are mixed with weirwood powder to enhance the flame's power and burn the runes."
Arya took the whistle and tucked it into her pocket.
She looked up at the sky; stars were still twinkling, the moon was gradually setting, and the darkness before dawn was the best cover.
In the distance, Grey Worm was leading the main Unsullied force, assembling outside the Red Keep gate, preparing for a frontal assault; Yara's Iron Islands warriors were also waiting in the waterfront area, controlling Euron's remaining warships.
"Move out," Arya ordered softly, leading the way towards the Red Keep.
The Spike Team members followed her, moving as lightly as shadows, without making a sound.
They followed the previously scouted route, bypassed the patrol outside King's Landing, and headed towards the entrance of the secret passage — the abandoned stables on the west side of the Red Keep.
The stables were filled with dust and cobwebs, and the air was thick with the smell of dry grass and decay.
According to Bran's instructions, Arya found a loose stone slab in the corner of the stables; beneath the slab was the entrance to the secret passage.
Talon pried open the slab with a dragonglass dagger, and a cold breath came from the secret passage, carrying a faint musty smell.
"Once down, follow me; don't take the wrong path," Arya said to the team members behind her, holding a torch.
The secret passage was narrow and steep, allowing only one person to pass at a time, and water droplets seeping from the walls dripped onto the ground, making a "drip-drop" sound.
Arya walked at the front, the torchlight illuminating the path ahead; ancient runes were carved on the walls of the secret passage — left by the first men to protect the passage and prevent external invasion.
"We are a hundred paces from the Black Cells' stone wall," Arya said, looking at the map, to the team members behind her, "Get ready; we will be entering combat soon."
The team members gripped their dragonglass daggers, and a determined glint flashed in their eyes.
Arya took a deep breath, adjusting her breathing — she knew that the next few minutes would decide the fate of all King's Landing.
She would use the dagger in her hand to destroy Cersei's plot, protect the innocent common people, and fulfill her mission.
At the end of the secret passage, the sound of guards changing shifts faintly echoed.
Arya raised her hand, signaling the team members to stop, waiting for that three-minute window.
The torchlight flickered in the darkness, reflecting her determined gaze — dawn was approaching, and victory would belong to the Alliance.